


Turn It Around

by Huggle



Series: Better with three [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Castiel, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Possessive Sam Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Rough Sex, Top Sam, toppy Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:11:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5779999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huggle/pseuds/Huggle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He isn’t surprised to find Sam has Cas pressed up against the Impala, bodies flush together.  Sam has one hand on Cas’s hip and the other is cupping his jaw.</p><p>“I don’t like it when other people touch you,” he says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn It Around

“Really?”

Dean scowls at the sharp taste of the painkillers, barely chased away by the swig of beer he uses to swallow them down. He can feel Sam’s disapproval, knows if he looks at him he’ll see the worry on his brother’s face.

So he doesn’t look, and stares out of the window into the night. 

“Dean.”

“It’s been a shitty day, Sam.” Poor excuse for being such a wet blanket, but Sam isn’t exactly thriving with energy either. It’s never easy to bounce back from losing people, from getting there in time to kill the monster but not to save their victims. And it’s even worse to have to watch from the floor, pretty sure you’re busted up, while the monster stomps over your family and it feels like there’s nothing you can do about it.

But they were alive – roughed up, a couple more scars but alive. That has to count as a win; there’ll always be casualties, people they’re too late to save, and that’s something every hunter has to accept. 

He knows every hunter also has to deal with the likelihood that if they hunt as a team, some members of the team won’t make it home. 

That one, he struggles with. He can’t be so pragmatic when that means Sam, or Cas, or both not being there. He can’t bring himself to consider a future without them in it.

When Sam gets up, Dean turns around then. Ok, so Sam can sometimes revert back to puberty at the speed of light, but he’d figured it’d take more than the nutty combination of pills and booze to trigger it this time.

It’s only when he sees the set of his brother’s jaw, the flash of anger in his eyes, that he realises it’s something else that’s got Sam pissed. 

Sam leaves their table, and starts towards the bar. It’s not busy tonight, and he’s big enough that the few people on the dance floor glide out of his way before he has to move around them. 

Beyond him, Dean can see the cause of his brother’s sudden temper.

There’s a guy standing next to Cas at the bar. He’s Vin Diesel with hair, and a t-shirt that shows off his packed muscle. In fact, Vin isn’t so much standing next to Cas as crowding him. The angel might finally have found someone with a worse concept of personal space than he has, but it isn’t funny.

It isn’t funny at all, especially when Vin’s hand settles on the small of Cas’s back, and he sees Cas jerk in surprise.

Dean’s on his feet fast, ignoring the dull line of pain down his back, and starts after Sam. The guy’s big enough for this to get ugly, and Sam’s still on edge – running on post hunt adrenaline and too little sleep. This past few weeks, it feels like it’s been one hit after another, and they’re all a little hair trigger.

He gets there in time to see Sam insert himself between Cas and the guy, and he can see Cas looking puzzled and put out at the same time. 

Sure, he can handle himself – one light push and Vin would be eating through a straw for the rest of his days – but that doesn’t mean they’re going to stand there and watch him get hit on. Pathetically.

“We got a problem, here?” Vin says.

Sam glowers down at him.

“Actually,” Dean says, coming up to flank his brother. “I think you do.”

“Dean,” Cas says. He shifts a little to the side, coming out from behind the protection of Sam’s bulk. “Sam. Everything is fine.”

“No, I don’t think it is.” Sam never takes his eyes off Vin and for a moment all Dean can think about is how much he loves it when Sam does that, goes all possessive on them. At the same time, he hopes this guy shows some sense and backs away fast, because this has a pretty high chance of going south so quick it’ll give him whiplash.

But it looks like Vin’s muscle to brain ratio swings too much in the wrong direction, and he actually squares up to Sam like there’s even a chance in a million he can get in a fight with Dean’s little brother and _win_. 

“Like he said – everything’s fine. You got a problem with me chatting to your friend?”

Sam’s beyond talking. Dean can see he’s about a second away from taking this guy down and he’s on edge enough to make it permanent.

Cas can see it as well and, with a strength his frame belies, he puts his hand around Sam’s arm and gently pulls him back. “I think we should go home. Now.”

Sam lets Cas encourage him away but Dean lingers, waits until they’re far enough back that he doesn’t have to worry about any sneak attacks on them. Part of him knows he’s hoping the guy will try something – Sam isn’t the only one who can be possessive – and for a moment he thinks it’s on. That maybe the guy was all talk with Sam, but Dean’s a few inches shorter and a few pounds lighter than his Sasquatch of a brother.

Maybe he likes the odds on Dean a little better.

But the moment comes and goes, and Vin gives him a hard man shrug, like he’s the one giving Dean a chance to walk away.

He has no fucking idea how close he came, but Dean backs up and then heads outside after his brother and the angel.

He isn’t surprised to find Sam has Cas pressed up against the Impala, bodies flush together. Sam has one hand on Cas’s hip and the other is cupping his jaw.

“I don’t like it when other people touch you,” he says. 

Dean knows it’s pretty dumb to be doing this out here, where anybody could happen along, but his body isn’t interested in him stopping it. Pretty much the opposite. He’s half hard, pain from the hunt lost in the swell of want. 

“Neither do I,” Cas says, and Dean forces himself to open the driver’s door. 

“Home,” he says, his voice so rough it’s almost sore. “Now.”

The bunker isn’t so far from the town limits for driving to be a problem; yes, he’s tired and sore, and that plus painkillers and a beer probably isn’t a good combination. But he’s driven with broken fingers and open wounds before, under curses and with torn muscles. Anyway, the urge to get them home is like a hot itch just under his skin. 

It’ll keep him going until they’re behind closed doors, and then they will.

He’s grateful that Sam takes the front and Cas takes the back, though. If Sam had gotten in besides Cas, Dean knows they’d never had made the bunker.

He’d either have wrapped them around a tree, or pulled in somewhere and got in the back with them.

But even though he knows all the short cuts now, and he plays a little fast and loose with the speed limit, getting them home still takes too damn long.

**

Sam, though – Sam makes up for lost time.

“Work him open, Dean,” he says. “Get him slick for us.”

Dean has to take a moment, close his eyes and breathe, just try to find enough self-control not to come right then and there. It isn’t easy; Sam’s sitting in a chair by the bed, naked and lazily fisting his own cock.

Cas is lying, just as bare, on his back – wide eyes staring up at Dean with an alluring mix of impatience and pure need. 

He bends his knees, sliding his feet back until his heels are nearly touching his ass and opens his legs in a blatant invitation.

“Dean,” Sam says, voice hard, pushy. “Now.”

Fuck Sam and his toppy ways, but really he wasn’t complaining. They all got off on it, Sam taking charge and running what always turned into a hot, sweaty mess of a show. Maybe being told what to do wound him up a little in the beginning, but Dean figured the reward for showing Sam a little obedience more than made up for it.

He set to doing as he’d been told, slicking his fingers with lube and sliding two in straight off.

Cas hisses at the running start but Dean knows he can take it. He’s driven Cas to frustration in this bed, with Sam spotting that Cas likes things fast, direct. No playing around. So, because he can be a sadistic bastard when he chooses, Sam had ordered Dean to drag it out. Take Cas almost to the edge and then ramp it right back.

When they’d finally let Cas come, he’d nearly passed out. Which was a pretty awesome accomplishment given he was an _angel_.

But he figures that wasn’t what Sam had in mind tonight, so he thrusts his fingers in and out a few times, satisfies himself Cas is stretched enough to feel it but not have it hurt, and then he glances over his shoulder at Sam.

His brother leans forward, eyeing them both hungrily. 

“Cas,” he says. “You think you can get Dean to come first? Before I get you to?”

Dean groans and reaches down to squeeze the base of his cock. He wishes Sammy would warn him before he says shit like that. One more word and he’ll probably have to sit the rest of this thing out.

“Yes,” Cas says. He gives them a sure look, the one Dean refers to as his ‘bring it on’ face. Usually it’s reserved for whatever demon they’re squaring up to, and Crowley gets it by default, but when he uses it while they’re together like this – Dean knows things are about to get interesting.

And maybe a little competitive.

“So do it.”

Dean waits until Sam gives him the nod and then starts to get off the bed. 

“No, I want you to straddle him,” Sam says.

Dean hesitates. He’d been on the receiving end of that particular position and it makes it damn hard to keep control and not feel like you’re being throat fucked. Then Castiel’s hand is on his wrist, tugging him forward, moving him into position.

“I won’t break,” he says, and then takes Dean into his mouth.

It’s the fine edge of what’s going to take him apart, pretty damn quick, and Dean has to brace himself against the headboard as his muscles seem to give out on him. Cas brings his hands up to grip the top of his thighs, lending him much needed support, and how the hell he can do that while he’s sucking him off, Dean doesn’t know.

Right now, he’s lost all ability for rational thought so trying to figure it out is never going to happen.

It’s only when he feels the bed shift behind him and Cas gives a sudden grunt around his cock – something that sends a warm rush of endorphins through him from top to toe – that he realises Sam’s seated himself hard and fast inside the angel.

Cas shifts beneath him, dislodging Dean from his mouth, and Dean glares a little back at his brother.

“You gonna play fair, Sammy?”

Sam grins at him. He pulls Cas down a little, dragging him further into his cock. “You’re impartial in this,” he says. “You’ll get off either way.”

Dean can’t disagree, knows he’d probably be there already if not for his cheating little brother. Then Cas takes him in hand, long fingers working him a little harder, and uses his new position to prop himself up on one elbow so he has a better range of access.

Which he uses. Fucking hell, he uses it, and Dean’s back to bracing himself against the wall. It leaves him looking down at Cas, watching him uses his lips and tongue to pull him ever closer to coming. And he wonders what it’s like for Cas, Sammy filling him to the limit, and timing each shove into him so that he’s barely adjusted from the last by the time the next one jerks him against the bed.

Dean knows what it’s like for him – the way Sam can almost read off his body just how close he is and what it’ll finally take to have him arched and gasping his way through completion.

Intense doesn’t even start to cover it.

But Cas is nothing if not determined, and he does something then – Dean isn’t sure what – but it makes him twist in on himself and he manages to pull out and clear before he comes hard enough to buckle. 

His mess coats the wall and the pillow, but none of it hits Cas – it’s one of the few things Cas doesn’t like them doing to him. Maybe food is back to tasting like molecules but – like life needs to occasionally remind them a fair ride is not something they’ll ever really get – jizz just tastes bad.

The one time Sam playfully suggested marking him with it, Cas actually growled at him. 

Dean goes to his knees by the bed and pulls Cas close enough that he can kiss him – it’s rough and sloppy but he’s wrung out. Damn, he used to have more stamina than this, but it happens. He keeps kissing Cas, licking his way into the angel’s mouth, tangling tongues with him even as he catches Sam smiling at them from the corner of his eye.

Then his brother picks up the pace, and Cas gives a whine into Dean’s mouth.

“I know you’re near, Cas,” Sam says. “Don’t hold back, just let go for me.”

He gives another thrust into Cas, so deep that Dean thinks even though Cas is an angel he’s going to be damn sore once Sam is done. But that all it takes and Cas fingers fist into the sheets and then tear them as he comes.

Sam isn’t done himself, but another few shoves and he slumps forward with a groan, bracing his hands on either side of Cas to avoid squashing the angel into the bed.

He slips out, and Dean only just hears the sharp inhale of breath from Cas, and figures maybe he was just as tired as them, too tired to bear up under getting pounded through the bed.

Sam seems to read that too. He runs his hands soothing down Castiel’s legs, rubs little circles into his stomach, works hard at settling him. Then he grabs a packet of baby wipes from the bedside unit and yanks a few out before tossing the rest to Dean.

They spend a few moments cleaning themselves up and then Cas; it’s like Sam has to swing from one extreme to the other in this and they don’t fight him on it. 

Dean turns the pillow he’d messed upside down – they can change everything over later - and settles down next to Cas.

Finding a bed big enough for three grown men wasn’t easy, but persistence paid off and it’s worth it so they can all just lie there, close and comfortable.

Sam snags the cover up over them and turns Cas so he’s facing Dean. He spoons up against him, and Cas gives a disgruntled sound.

“Sam, too soon.”

Dean props himself up enough to give his brother a disdainful look. “Seriously? Are you trying to break him?”

The smile Sam gives him back is some weird combination of mischief and sorry and want but he raises his hands back out from beneath the cover in a display of surrender. Instead he reaches over; one arm is pillowed beneath Castiel’s head, but he pulls Dean in closer with the other one until there’s virtually no space between them all.

Just as well Cas isn’t claustrophobic.

For a while, Dean just watches them sleeping. They made it home, mostly in one piece, and suddenly it actually seems like it may not have been such a shitty day after all.


End file.
